A Safe Place
by yellowcrayon7
Summary: Abed helps Annie recover from a harrowing ordeal. Pretty angsty and possibly triggering deals with Annie as a victim of sexual assault . I wanted to highlight the sweetness and closeness of their friendship by putting them in a very non-sitcom situation.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, this ended up even darker than I anticipated. It does deal with rape and its aftermath, and although it's not very explicit, it could be triggering. I tried to keep them both as in-character as I could considering the situation, but I would appreciate comments/suggestions! The next chapter will be up later this week.**

When it was over, Annie pulled her now button-less button-down tight across her chest, stumbling out of the alley. The bus stop was only a few blocks away, and it seemed a much better option than staying at her own apartment building. Her barred window looked directly into this alleyway, and she just wanted to forget about it. Not stopping to change clothes, she walked briskly to the bus stop. Her thighs ached, she was pretty sure her face a mess of black and blue, and she felt like she could hardly breathe.

On the way, she reviewed her mistakes. She should have waited until the next morning to put her garbage in the dumpster. She should have remembered her mace. She should have taken karate in school. She should have worn a longer skirt. She should have screamed louder – no, that one was forgivable on the part of the knife. The nick in her side throbbed as she recalled that detail.

Rationally, she knew this wasn't her fault, but she wasn't feeling rational. She needed to find someone, that was all she knew.

Annie reviewed her choices. Her parents were out of the question, she hadn't even seen them since she got out of rehab. Shirley would be at home with her boys, probably asleep. Britta was a terrible comforter and would probably get angry with her for blaming herself. Pierce – just no. She longed for Jeff's sturdy arms to wrap her in a hug, for him to wipe her face clean like a father or God forbid a lover or something else totally undefined, but she was afraid he'd be the lawyer and want to go after this guy or something. Troy was kind and safe and although her crush on him was decidedly over, it would be awkward to show up at his place half-naked in the middle of the night. Also, he lived with Pierce.

That left Abed. Annie was already climbing onto the bus headed to Greendale, by force of habit, so it would be convenient. She didn't understand Abed, but maybe he would understand her. Jeff once said he had Asperger's, but Annie wasn't sure. One of the girls in rehab had it and she couldn't read facial cues or people's emotions at all. Abed could read people better than anyone sometimes – he just didn't react right because he can't empathize. Empathy wasn't what Annie wanted right now. She wanted calm. When she got off the bus, she headed to Abed's dorm room.

The door was closed, but there was a sliver of light beneath it and she could hear the television inside. She shouldn't interrupt him, it's rude. She turned to walk away and felt her stomach clench with the reality of what had happened to her. Before she could chicken out, she knocked on the door.

The sound of the TV stopped and she heard a slight rustle. She gripped her shirt tighter.

Abed was in pajama pants and a plain green t-shirt. He looked at her for a long time, taking in her dried tears, torn shirt, wrinkled skirt, bruised cheek, and posture of shame. Then he opened the door and stepped back. "Come inside."

Annie did so, and Abed noticed her slightly uneven gait. "Sorry… for. It's the middle of… I didn't know where… sorry," she said, her voice hollow and scratchy.

Abed was surprised to find his own voice strained as he said, "It's okay. Sit down if you want. Can I get you some water?"

She nodded, but stayed standing. He got a water bottle out of the mini-fridge and handed it to her. Her hands were shaking too much to open it, so he took it back and twisted off the cap. He didn't understand what had happened to her, but he refrained from asking. People don't like questions when they're hurt or scared. That's why police interrogations are so tense and emotional. At least, they are on TV. He hoped Annie wasn't going to get arrested or something.

Her shirt was missing all of its buttons, and she struggled to hold it closed while she sipped the water. He went to his dresser and pulled out an old t-shirt.

"You can wear this if you want," he said, handing it to her.

She nodded, and Abed turned away and bowed his head. There was a small hiss behind him and he asked quickly, "Are you okay?" but didn't turn around. Annie didn't answer. She determined her wound was no longer bleeding and pulled the soft shirt over her head. It had the Star Trek IV poster printed on it. She looked at Princess Leia's defiant gaze and felt like crying. Her knees buckled and she fell onto the sofa with a painful thump.

"You can turn around now," she said, her voice thick. He did, and she was there, on his couch, in his shirt, her cheek swollen and purple, one hand over her mouth, the other gripping her skinned knee, holding in tears.

Abed sat on the couch a few feet away. He didn't want to touch her in case this was like the abused puppies that bite anyone who tries to pet them. Usually when Annie was sad her eyes looked like puppy eyes, and clearly she'd been beaten up. Right now her eyes just looked empty. "What do you need?" he asked, and when she didn't answer, he added, "I can drive you to the emergency room."

Annie met his gaze and shook her head, horrified. "No," she whispered. "No, they'll… they'll… it'll be like _that_ all over again… I just… please no."

"Okay," he reassured, confused by her reaction. "Do you want some ice? There's a machine downstairs."

She shook her head again, staring at her lap and reaching across the couch to grip his hand. "Don't leave please?"

"Okay," he said again. "Annie…"

She released his hand. "Thanks," she interrupted. "For the water."

He reached over to pat her on the shoulder, like how people comforted each other on TV, but she flinched instinctively as soon as he made contact. Something was very wrong.

He sorted through the information he had gathered. Annie was very sad, and very scared, and something else, too, something he couldn't quite figure out. Skinned, dirty knees, bruised face, slight limp, torn shirt, she'd been crying, and she couldn't stand being touched.

"Oh," he breathed, putting it all together. "Annie…" he whispered, his heart racing. She looked at him, barely meeting his eyes. Her cheeks flushed, and he suddenly identified the something else as shame.

Abed always thought they were all in some madcap ensemble sitcom, and usually they were. This wasn't supposed to happen in a sitcom. This wasn't supposed to happen at all. "I don't know what to do," he admitted. "I could call Britta, or Shirley…"

She shook her head and looked up at him, eyes pleading. "They can't know. They – we – please, Abed, don't ever say anything please…"

"Of course," he said, wishing he could inflect his voice to sound more comforting or serious or something. "Whatever you need."

"I need to take a shower," she admitted.

Abed hesitated. "Annie, if you want them to catch this… person, we have to go to the police now. For DNA." He'd seen enough police procedurals to know that.

Annie nodded. "Do you know how a…" her voice shivered on the word, "rape kit works?"

He shook his head. The TV didn't show that part. He didn't want to know. He hoped she wouldn't tell him. "I'm not going to the hospital and I'm not going to the police," she stated firmly. Abed nodded, relieved that her confident tone was seeping back into her voice. He hated that Annie was sad. He wanted to hurt the person who did this. That was different. Other than the group's fight with those bullies at Christmas, he was rarely violent.

Abed didn't know how to comfort her. She didn't seem to like physical contact, and he couldn't blame her, but that meant he had to comfort with words instead. And he had it on good authority that he wasn't very compassionate.

Instead of saying anything, he stood, and Annie's darting, watery eyes watched him remove a clean towel from the bottom drawer of his dresser. He chose her a pair of sweatpants that would approximately fit and handed them to her. Annie stood on shaky legs. "Where…" she started. Abed nodded towards the door and she followed him down the hallway to the women's room. She went inside, and he stood at the door for a couple minutes trying to process before running downstairs to the ice machine.

When she shed her torn clothing, Annie looked down to see a body that wasn't hers. The legs of this new body were unsteady, the thighs and wrists bruised, the chest covered in hickeys and bite marks, the knees embedded with sidewalk. She didn't recognize it, and it wasn't hers.

The water in the shower was too hot and her unfamiliar skin turned red where the stream her. The red dampened the visual effect of the purple bruises, so she didn't adjust the temperature. She went through the motions, massaging her fuzzy-feeling head with some stranger's borrowed shampoo, rinsing it, working the conditioner in, rinsing it… She scrubbed her skin where he had touched her as hard as she could without a washcloth.

The steam calmed her and softened the pain in her abdomen. She lost track of time, but her whole body was an angry red by the time she turned off the water, and her skin felt numb. The scrubbing and heat had re-opened the shallow wound in her side, which was leaking blood in pink drops all over the pristine floor of the dorm showers. She quickly staunched the flow with Abed's towel, making a mental note to put stain-stick on it later.

Annie waited until she was fully dry to change, which took a while because of the lingering humidity in the room. Her throat felt stuck, and she realized she had missed a prime opportunity by not crying in the shower. Now whenever this lump of shame or whatever in her chest got out, it would be loud and messy and probably in front of Abed. There was an innocence about that boy that she felt guilty for interrupting. This probably didn't fit into his carefully constructed plot. It was thematically irrelevant, or something. Despite being behind two opaque curtains, she wrapped the towel around herself tightly as she waited.

Still, if Annie had gone to anyone else, she would be sitting in an ER or a police station right now. She shivered slightly and realized she was dry except for her hair. She pulled on Abed's shirt and sweatpants, relieved to be covered up. The sweatpants had to be rolled up to stop them from dragging. Her own wrinkled, too-short skirt was on the floor along with a pair of useless panties and her shoes. She picked up the shoes and towel and threw the rest in the trashcan.

Her mother would have made her wear pantyhose with a skirt that length. He probably would have gotten through those with no trouble anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just a clarification, because I realized the timing of this is kind of confusing. Obviously this is before Annie moves in with the boys and before Abed and Troy get their apartment, so that puts it in the 1****st**** or 2****nd**** season, when Annie has her apartment in the terrible neighborhood and Abed lives in the Greendale dorms. I'm picturing mid-2****nd**** season, before paintball but after they've known each other for quite a while. So the Han/Leia thing isn't a direct reference to paintball, more like foreshadowing? Or something. Also I don't own Community if that wasn't already clear! NBC does, and Dan Harmon (well not anymore *grumble grumble*)**

Abed's door was cracked open and he was sitting on the couch with a cereal bowl full of ice, staring into space. She thought about walking away, not burdening him any more with a rush of emotions he couldn't properly deal with, but he turned to her and smiled slightly. Not condescendingly, she was glad to see.

She came in and closed the door. Out of habit, she locked it behind her. Abed tipped some ice into a dishcloth and handed it to her, careful not to brush her hand with his long, delicate fingers. She held it to her face, the cold touch a welcome relief. The soothing shower was wearing off now. Abed took the towel to hang up, stopping when he noticed the red stain. He looked at her, puzzled, and then horrified.

She caught him staring and rushed to explain. "Sorry, I'll clean it. There was a… he had a knife and… it's not bad and stain-stick and cold water…"

Abed was already rummaging under the bed. He emerged with a box labeled "Zombie Apocalypse Survival Kit: First Aid." Annie would have smiled if she didn't hurt so damn much.

He sat next to her on the couch. "Can I see?" he asked gently. Gentle wasn't so hard. Gentle was quiet and not sudden. Kind was the hard part.

Annie slowly pulled up his Star Wars t-shirt to reveal the cut, which was shiny red but not bleeding. "This might sting," he warned, and he gingerly wiped the area with an alcohol swab. Annie didn't even flinch, her brain too focused on the other stings to care about this one. He rubbed a bit of Neosporin on the cut and covered it with a large Spiderman band-aid. "All set."

He tried to make eye contact with Annie, but she was staring at the ground, her head tilted so her cheek rested on the makeshift icepack in her hand. "Thanks," she breathed, pulling the shirt down. "Does that have… any pain… like Advil or something?"

Abed nodded. "One or two?" he asked. She said nothing, but her shaking open palm was enough. He dropped two tablets of ibuprofen in her hand and retrieved the water bottle, opening it and handing it to her. She took the pills silently. The dishcloth was now dripping, and Abed remembered distantly that there was a plastic bag component to the ice pack that he'd forgotten.

They sat in silence. Abed offered Annie a blanket and she cocooned herself in the fleece, but it didn't seem to allay her shivering. "Annie," he began eventually, uncertain if this was one of those comfortable silences like in Pulp Fiction or an awkward one or maybe a tragic silence, like in that episode of Buffy where her mom dies. Either way he wanted it to end.

Annie finally met his eyes, her soaked dishcloth dropping from her hand as she quietly crumbled. "This is all my fault," she whispered between sharp, hiccupping breaths. Abed was confused.

"How is it your fault?" he asked in what he hoped in retrospect was not too incredulous a tone.

She took a couple deep breaths, wiping her eyes and wringing her hands. "I shouldn't have been out that late. I should have brought mace. I shouldn't have worn that stupid skirt."

Her confessions didn't deter Abed, who refused to believe that anyone could blame Annie for this, let alone Annie herself. "That's no excuse," he said. "He shouldn't have done this, and that's the only part that matters," he stated. He wasn't being comforting, per se, he was being honest. Annie nodded.

"I know," she said. "I just don't understand."

Neither did he. His whole world was tainted by this one act of violence against one of his only friends. Annie was sobbing now, bent over her knees. This wasn't socially-appropriate-funeral crying, or Notebook-watching crying, or getting-Jeff-to-do-stuff-crying. This was loud, messy, can't-stop-if-you-tried crying.

She threw off the blanket and stood suddenly, and Abed stood too, unsure of what she was about to do. She seemed like she might start tearing the room to shreds. That's what he might do, at least. Then she brought a hand to her mouth and stumbled out of the room, rushing down the hall to the women's bathroom. He grabbed the water bottle and followed her warily, unsure if he should go in and help her or not. There was something about holding people's hair he remembered from some movie, but that might have been a girly best friend thing. He waited by the door, listening to the sink turn on.

Moments later, Annie emerged. She was pale and sweating like she had a fever. She leaned on the doorframe and nodded in response to his unspoken question. But she wasn't okay, and even he could tell. He handed her the water bottle wordlessly.

Annie felt dizzy as they walked back down the hall. The walls seemed to sway and she gripped Abed's arm for support. Carefully, waiting for a reaction, he supported her elbow until they reached his door. While he unlocked it, she drooped against the wall and closed her eyes. She resumed this position on the couch while he locked up. They had agreed silently long ago that she would be spending the night here.

"Do you need anything?" he asked quietly. "Pillow, food, more ice…"

Annie shook her head, her lip trembling as more tears leaked out of her doe eyes. "Just hold me," she said huskily. He could do that. He could be Han Solo tonight. She had always reminded him of Leia.

Abed sat down next to her and pulled her to his chest. Her body shook as she sobbed. She pulled her legs up and bent them across Abed's lap, so she was completely cradled in his arms.

Abed wondered suddenly if she hadn't chosen him to come to because of his perceived asexuality. He was, by nature, unthreatening. Of course, he was decidedly not asexual, but he did not understand how someone could steal another's body in that way. No amount of sex could ever be worth causing this much pain.

Annie's hands were grasping Abed's shirt weakly. His arms encircled her, and he rubbed slow circles on her back.

For much of his life, Abed avoided unnecessary physical contact. It wasn't very difficult. People didn't usually want to touch him. But it meant that he wasn't the most accomplished hugger, and it still felt strange to have another warm body so close to him. He held Annie tighter, remembering what he'd read about farm animals who liked to be squeezed. Like swaddling babies, kind of. But Annie was a human. A grown-up human. He had never read anything explaining how to calm someone who'd gone through… that. Maybe there wasn't a way at all.

She calmed gradually, taking deep, broken breaths until she no longer shook. "Abed," she said. "I want to be okay again." Her voice was hoarse but strong. Despite having probably thrown up the Advil, the external and internal pain had dulled considerably. She felt warm and safe for the first time since it happened.

"I want you to always be okay," he said, as if it were perfectly obvious.

Annie gave a choked little laugh. "Why does your first aid kit say Zombie Apocalypse?" she asked.

He shrugged, and she felt the movement in her shoulder. "I like to be prepared," he said.

She sighed, and snuggled deeper into Abed's embrace, her forehead nudging his chest as she adjusted. Her breaths grew deeper and farther apart until Abed was certain she'd fallen asleep. He lifted her gently, bridal-style, surprised at his own upper arm strength. He laid her in his own bed, which was marginally more comfortable than the couch (he'd done a careful comparison) and rested her head gently on his pillow. He pulled the blanket over her and settled on his couch, trying to fall asleep.

Abed felt like he'd accidentally changed the channel to some other life, where terrible things were allowed to happen and his friends could be broken and hurt. Even in this new world, he still didn't know what to do about anything.

Eventually, Annie's slow breathing lulled him into a fitful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Shorter chapter this time, but there's more to come. As for a happy ending... you'll just have to wait and see, but it won't be all bad, I can promise that. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed so far! I love seeing your comments. :)**

Someone was whimpering. Abed wondered if he'd left the TV on again. He could tell from the curvature of his spine that he was on the couch. Maybe the sound was a dying Blorgon. But before he had even opened his eyes, he remembered what had happened last night.

Abed sat up and rubbed his eyes. Annie was curled up in his bed, in the throes of a nightmare. Or maybe, he realized with a sinking feeling, a memory. He wasn't sure what to do. "Annie?" he asked tentatively.

She didn't respond. He stepped over to the bed, the floor cold on his bare feet. He should wake her, he decided. Or were you not supposed to wake someone who was having a nightmare? No, that was if they were sleepwalking, he was pretty sure. "Annie," he repeated, louder. She was gripping his blanket in a death grip, thrashing slightly as she took fast, scared breaths.

"No," she whispered. "No no no no no," on and on until Abed reached over and placed a warm, slender hand on her shoulder and shook gently.

Annie's eyes slid open and she started at the sight of Abed, who immediately retracted his hand. "Oh God," she said, "Oh my God." Her hyperventilating didn't seem to have stopped when she awoke. She sat up, resting her head in her hands and lacing her fingers through her hair, pulling at it slightly. Abed sat next to her, ready to provide whatever comfort and assistance she needed whenever he figured out what that was. "Oh…" she whispered, breaths speeding up.

Abed needed a paper bag. That was how people calmed down on TV. He didn't have a paper bag. A plastic bag probably wouldn't help, nor would a piece of paper. Did anyone actually use brown paper bags anymore? Didn't everyone have lunchboxes? He returned to the matter at hand. "Annie," he said. She didn't look up. Her hands had moved from her hair to the bed next to her, where her nails were digging into his sheets. He placed his hand over hers and squeezed slightly, hoping to snap her out of it. She gripped his hand like she was in immense pain.

She turned to him finally, her hand slackening around his. He saw that her eyes were full of wild fear and pain. Her hair was a mess and Abed was suddenly inspired to reach up to push it out of her face. The skin of her forehead was incredibly soft. Annie blinked demurely as he tucked the strand behind her ear. He was well aware that this trope generally preceded a kiss of some kind, but he wasn't going to kiss Annie. Not right now. Although, for the first time, the idea of kissing her didn't seem entirely preposterous.

Annie's eyes were red and wide, but she wasn't crying. He let his hand rest on the side of her face, gently stroking the bruise with his thumb. Annie leaned into his touch ever so slightly, letting her eyes close with an almost silent sigh. "Abed?" she said quietly.

"Yeah," he whispered, suddenly out of breath.

"I'm really hungry."

He smiled and she let out a small giggle. The sound of her laugh was a huge relief for Abed, who had sorely missed the bubbly side of her and was wondering if it would ever return.

Abed stood to inspect his food supply, hoping there were enough Lucky Charms left. There was. He held up the box and Annie nodded, her mouth curving slightly upwards. His cereal bowl was full of melted ice, so he poured the cereal into a red Solo cup leftover from a kegger Troy had helped him throw the previous week. It seemed like years ago.

Annie munched quietly for several minutes, but her achy jaw protested at the continuous chewing and she set the cup down. She should go back home. She needed to study for her Sociology midterm and check her phone messages and water her plant and put on her own clothes and speaking of which, she had a load of laundry in the dryer downstairs and she'd left the bathroom light on and it wasn't even compact fluorescent.

She stood up suddenly. She wasn't anticipating the soreness in her legs and stomach and almost immediately doubled over, saved from hitting the floor by Abed's quick hands.

"Whoa," he said as he caught her shoulders. He helped her back onto the bed, concerned. "More painkillers, then." She wrapped one hand tight around her abdomen and nodded, eyes squeezed shut.

The Apocalypse first-aid kit was still sitting on the bookshelf. He gave Annie two pills and a fresh water bottle from the mini-fridge. Once she had swallowed them down, he said gently but firmly, "Annie, I think we should go to the hospital."

She stood, bracing herself on his shoulder for a moment before becoming fully upright. "I'm fine," she said, even more firmly. "Just sore."

Abed noticed her hand was still resting on her torso like she was in pain. He said, "Can I just make sure you don't have any broken ribs?"

Annie recognized the compromise and nodded, carefully lifting her – well, his – shirt to just below her breasts. The bandage showed no signs that her cut had started bleeding again, he was glad to find. However, her chest was covered in bruises. Abed gently felt around her bones, searching for fractures with his delicate fingers. Annie looked away, biting her lip to keep it from quivering. Her muscles tensed, tickled by Abed's soft touch. Every now and then she let out a slight hiss of pain. "Nothing broken as far as I can tell," he said after a minute. She pulled her shirt down. "Do you want more ice?"

She shook her head, but from the way she was moving he could tell the bruising was even worse on her thighs. "I bruise easily," she explained, "like a peach."

Abed tilted his head at the comparison. Annie sat on the couch gingerly. "Abed…" she began. He immediately joined her as she adjusted to get comfortable. He wondered for a moment why she was scooching around but figured it out soon with another sharp and unpleasant revelation. He nodded to show he was listening.

"Thank you," she finished, and he had a feeling she was going to say more than that but decided against it.

"You're welcome," he said instinctively, before wondering if there was a better response. "Don't mention it," maybe, or something like that. "You can sleep in my bed for as long as you want," he added. "I'll text Jeff and say we can't come to the meeting today. I won't tell him why," he quickly clarified when she looked askance.

"I have classes…" she began weakly, but Abed shook his head.

"According to the Greendale Student Handbook, students who are recovering from injury or trauma may miss up to a week of classes without penalty." Annie raised an eyebrow. "I memorized it."

Annie smiled. "Isn't that like 100 pages?"

Abed shrugged. "Only 98. Do you want soup?"

Annie harkened back to something Jeff had said when they all first met. Ask Abed to pass the salt, and he'll give you a bowl of soup. Of course, that whole everybody's awesome speech had been a BS ploy to get with Britta, but practically everything he said ended up being true. "Umm…" she said, "Why soup?"

"That's what my mom gave me whenever I was sick as a kid," he explained matter-of-factly. "I understand it's supposed to be comforting. The convenience store sells cans and Pavel has a hotplate."

"Isn't that a fire hazard?"

"So are fake fire alarms."

Annie nodded. "I guess some soup would be nice," she admitted.

"I'll go get some. You can watch TV if you want, or sleep more," Abed said. He knew it was bad manners to tell women they looked tired, but he also knew the dark circles under Annie's eyes were from more than just bruises. He stopped at the door, his constant calculations revealing another thing he didn't want to consider. "Do you need an emergency contraceptive?" he asked, not meeting her eyes. Abed felt embarrassed, which was an unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation.

Annie shook her head, blushing. "I take a pill," she said quietly. Abed nodded and left.

She decided to go back to sleep. Despite the ibuprofen, there was a lingering achiness that she couldn't shake and she welcomed the blissful numb of unconsciousness. Besides, she got cranky and puffy when she didn't sleep enough.

She closed her eyes and snuggled under Abed's covers. They smelled like him, a distinctive, safe scent like boy soap with a touch of cardamom. She should go back to her apartment eventually, where her phone and toothbrush and clothes were, but right now, she rested.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for your support everyone, especially tmvg! I love reading the comments so keep it up :) As for the other story with similar elements featuring Annie and Jeff, this is a really common plot for fanfiction and I'm sure the author wasn't copying me and probably hasn't even read this story. We're all using someone else's characters anyway! Besides, our stories are actually very different because the characters are different and they take place at different times. Thank you ana and Cass for pointing this out. This chapter is even shorter, but the next one will hopefully be up by tomorrow.**

The smell of something delicious roused her. Annie felt much more lucid after her short nap, as if the color saturation of the dorm room had been cranked up a notch while her eyes were closed.

Abed had rinsed out the cereal bowl and was pouring soup into it from a steaming saucepan. She smiled. He noticed she was awake and handed her the bowl and a titanium spork. "Chicken and stars," he said. "It was my favorite growing up, so… careful though, it's hot."

Annie nodded and blew gently on her sporkful of soup before raising it to her lips. Abed sat on the couch across from her, reading a book for one of his media studies classes. When the soup was cool enough, Annie lifted the bowl and drank from it like a mug, careful not to splash it on herself.

"What am I going to do?" she said, trying to keep the maudlin edge out of her voice. It was a legitimate question.

Abed looked at her thoughtfully. "Well," he said, "you could see a counselor. You could stay here. You could go back to your apartment. Or if you've changed your mind about the hospital or the police, you could go there."

Annie shook her head. "No police. The number of sexual assault cases that end in an arrest, even when the victim knows the assailant, is abysmally small." She swirled the soup dregs around in the bowl, trying to find constellations in the little noddle stars.

He froze for a moment. "Annie," he said calmly. "Did you know your assailant?"

She flushed slightly but continued talking in a steady voice. "It's actually much more common that way. I mean, everyone thinks of… _that_… as the whole dark alley stranger thing, but statistically speaking that's much less common. Although I guess that was an alley, technically. It was definitely dark. Or do alleys have to be open at both ends?"

Abed was still staring at her. He should be a police interrogator, Annie considered briefly. There was a gentleness in his eyes that made her want to tell him everything.

She took a deep breath. "Okay, I knew the guy. He lives in my building, in the apartment above me. At first when he moved in I actually thought he was kind of cute, you know, in that quiet, dangerous way. Oh God, I've probably flirted with him by accident! He must have seen me taking out my trash and just thought..."

"If he really thought you wanted it, why did he bring a knife?" Abed interjected, legitimately curious.

Annie shook her head. "That's the thing. The knife was just sitting there on the ground. I was going to pick it up on my way back in. Our landlord keeps a lost-and-found box. So when he tried to… kiss me, I pushed him away and I thought he was going to leave, but then must have seen that knife and… yeah. But… he didn't really hurt me except when I tried to fight back. I mean, I basically hit my own cheek against the wall. And I don't think he was planning to cut me at all, I just… squirmed… too much. Although I guess it was generally… rough? He seemed like he was in a hurry, and I haven't… very much, ever… anyway. After… afterwards, I was in shock, kind of, and he… he stroked my hair. Then he dropped the knife and went back into the building. I could see his light go on upstairs. I just left. Went to the bus station, and, well." She took a deep breath, relieved at how easy it had been to relate these details. Maybe she would be okay after all.

"Annie," Abed said, his throat sore. He hoped his voice didn't sound odd. There was a pause while Annie looked at him expectantly. "Have you had all your tetanus shots?"

Annie almost laughed with relief, imagining a million other probing questions she couldn't or didn't want to answer. "Of course, Abed."

They sat quietly while she set her bowl on top of the TV. "I should go back there," she said, feigning resolution. "At least for a few minutes, to get some stuff together. After that… do you think I could stay here for a couple days? You can have the top bunk."

Abed nodded. "Deal. Do you want me to come with you? I'm not very good at moral support but I've memorized a lot of comforting phrases."

Annie's face melted in relief. "If you don't mind," she said.

Not ten minutes later the two were side by side on the bus, Annie wearing the same Star Wars t-shirt and too-large sweatpants with her ballet flats. Abed sat silently, a wide-eyed look of childish curiosity on his face as they wound through Annie's terrible neighborhood. They reached her stop, and Annie tugged on the sleeve of Abed's hoodie to alert him. He tore his eyes from what appeared to be a drug deal in progress across the street to follow her down the block to her building.

Abed noticed how Annie averted her eyes as they walked past the small gap between apartment buildings where the dumpster was. He wondered if the knife was still there. He wondered if that was too gruesome a thing to think.

Annie had her key on a hairband around her wrist and she opened the front door easily. Her heart began beating extra fast, a paranoia settled around her stomach. What if he was there? What if he walked down those stairs right now. Abed was here, she was safe, but what would she do? She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt her. At the same time, though, she wanted him to know exactly how badly he'd hurt her. She wanted him to feel it for himself.

The fear was making her slightly sick and she reached for Abed's hand. He laced his fingers through hers, and she didn't mind that her palms were clammy because this was Abed, and he wouldn't leave her. With that in mind, Annie took a deep breath and headed upstairs. Abed followed, painfully aware of the pressure that he was exerting on Annie's hand. Tight was reassuring, he supposed, and she was certainly gripping his hand with some force, but he didn't want to crush her fingers. He settled on a gentle but not limp hold. When Annie gripped tighter, he ran his thumb along the soft curve of her hand in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

She let go when they reached her apartment, hastily locking the door behind Abed. Annie stood still for a moment, head tilted up, and Abed realized she was listening. There were faint footsteps overhead and Annie paled. Worried she might fall over or something dramatic like that, Abed stepped closer to her and placed a steadying hand on her back. "It's okay," he reassured, trying extra hard to inflect right.

Annie nodded. "I'm going to change and pack a few things. Could you, maybe…?"

"Wait in the hall? Got it," Abed agreed, exiting. He heard the door lock behind him. "I'll be right here," he called. He waited for a moment before sprinting up the stairs and finding himself at the door of Annie's upstairs "neighbor," barely out of breath. He felt afraid. That was an easy emotion to pin down, one that was part of the evolutionary make-up of most animals. This wasn't a movie, he wasn't playing a character, there was no script dictating how this would end. This wasn't some plot twist full of predictable tropes and a pre-scripted happy ending. He was just Abed, and the man behind this door was a real, violent criminal. With one last deep breath, Abed reached up and knocked.

**A/N: Cliffhanger! Remember, reviews = inspiration and inspiration = more chapters!**


End file.
